Dragon Feathers
by indecisivepenguin
Summary: For Rose, it's a matter of survival, of running from a past she never wanted and would rather forget. For Marco, it's about trying to get his life into some semblance of normalcy. That, and trying to get his body back. Companion to Angel's Tears and Scales: Bullets and Victory.
1. Chapter 1

(Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I don't own One Piece, so you can't sue)

X-X-X-X-X

She raced through the heart of the island, ignoring the branches tearing at her skin and hair, the rocks cutting up her feet. She pushed the pain to the back of her mind and forced herself to run faster. She couldn't hear her pursuers, but that didn't mean they weren't there, panting at her heels.

She could envision them in the dark, right behind her, and it spurred her on.

She burst from the trees, panting, sweat soaked and bloody. Skidding to a halt, she looked across the river, waist deep now for the summer, to the port, where salvation waited.

She forged ahead, ignoring the feeling of weakness that seeped into her very bones as she splashed through the water. Adrenaline did wonders for the system, shutting down parts of the brain that usually made people pause and turn back.

Hauling herself up onto the opposite shore she ran the last few feet to the dock, leaving bloody footprints across the worn, sun bleached wood as she searched. There, at the end, a fishing boat bobbed in the water. It was small enough that she could man it herself, but large enough to offer some relief from the sea. And, as it was fishing season on this island, it was well stocked for the long days spent out on the water.

Tossing the mooring, she leapt across the gap and onto the deck, fingers fumbling as she undid the ropes holding the sales. With a gentle tug, the boat pulled away from the dock, picking up speed as it reached deeper water.

She didn't look back as she steered, but she could imagine glowing eyes watching her from the shore.

X-X-X-X-X

/AN/

Sorry the intro is so short, but I felt that adding anything else would take away from the seriousness of this situation.

For those that don't know, this is part of a trilogy. Angel's Tears, Dragon Feathers, and Scales: Bullets and Victory can be read separately or together. They're all parallels of the same story line, just following different characters.


	2. Chapter 2

X-X-X-X-X

"What is it?" Marco asked the merchant, turning the stone over in his palm. It was about 3 inches across, smooth and perfectly round except for a small indent in one side, shaped just right so he could grip it with his thumb. It flashed a rainbow of colors from blue to yellow to purple to red and white. He held it up to the sun, observing the way the light actually shone through it. Perhaps it was some kind of glass? He wondered.

"It's a switching stone, sir." said the old man, nodding to him. He frowned, not knowing exactly what that meant, but the stone fascinated him and it was cheap. He paid the man and ambled away from the stall and deeper into the market, turning the stone over and over in his palm, watching the way the colors changed.

Perhaps, if he'd been paying more attention to his surroundings, he would have seen the collision coming.

As it stood, he found himself suddenly colliding with someone much smaller than him. He looked up from the stone in shock to see dark red hair and wide, surprised eyes the color of grass, before they were both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The hand holding the stone was suddenly trapped between them, pressed right over the girl's heart, beating a frantic, panicked rhythm against his skin.

Startled as he was he didn't notice the stone suddenly flash black. But he did notice when his vision began to blur and his mind went cloudy.

He was out before Vista turned the corner.

X-X-X

He came awake slowly.

Groggily, he groped for the clock that usually sat on his nightstand, wondering what time it was and how much, exactly, he'd had to drink the night before, only to realize that he couldn't move his arms. His eyes flew open, expecting to find himself in his room aboard the Moby Dick, but instead taking in the sight of one of the cells in the brig.

Blinking rapidly, he tried to move, struggling in earnest against the ropes binding his arms behind his back. It was then, when he looked down to asses the damage, that a curtain of dark red hair fell over his eyes. That, and he was looking at a rather impressive chest. Which certainly wasn't his.

"The hell..." he squawked, and the voice that came out was much higher pitched than he was used to. Starting to panic, he cast around for something, anything to tell him what was going on.

A door opened and light flooded the cell, making him blink rapidly, before the imposing, unhappy form of Vista appeared at the gate. Marco felt himself relax at the sight of his nakama, until he realized that the other man was glaring down at him. The larger man jabbed a key into the lock and pulled the door open, before striding in, gripping him by the shoulders, and hauling him up and out of the cell.

Vista didn't speak as he hauled Marco above decks, through the tight cluster of the other commanders, and tossed him rather unceremoniously at Whitebeard's feet. He let out a groan at the heavy contact, before lifting his eyes to his father, confusion and fear running through him.

Newgate observed him for a few moments before leaning forward.

"What have you done to my son, girl?" he growled. Marco blinked in confusion, struggling to sit up with his hands still bound.

"What are you talking about?" he finally managed, falling back on his ass without any support to hold him up. Whitebeard actually snarled in rage, and Marco found himself shrinking back. He'd never been on the receiving end of his father's rage before.

"Don't lie to me, brat. He won't wake and constantly cries out in his sleep, as though in pain. What. Have. You. Done. To him?" The Pirate Captain had leaned forward until he was fully out of his seat, kneeling in front of the quivering mess on the deck, glaring down with dark, unyielding eyes.

Marco, unable to comprehend what was going on, stared up into those eyes, tears welling in his own, and whispered:

"Oyaji."

The expression of rage melted from Newgate's face, to be replaced by horrified shock.

"M-Marco?" he gasped.

A sudden explosion rocked the Moby Dick, sending Whitebeard to his feet and Marco onto his back with a yelp. He rolled over just enough that he could see what had happened, and what he saw made his blood run cold.

The door to the lower decks had been blown clean off and lay in a smoking heap some distance away, but it was the blue mass of angry, hissing flames coming towards him that made him shiver. Ordinarily, seeing his own body coming towards him would have just seemed odd, especially without him in it, but now it was utterly terrifying.

Whitebeard made to intercept, but the figure, ringed in blue flames, dodged around him, landed beside Marco, scooped him up, threw him over a shoulder, and promptly leapt overboard. Wings spread outwards as the body underneath him rose higher and higher, taking him with them.

Marco could only watch in horror as his ship, his family and his father, got smaller and smaller as they flew farther and farther away.

X-X-X-X-X

/AN/

Why were you so hard to write, Chapter 2?

And if you're wondering why she was so mad, you try waking up in a strange location, suddenly the opposite gender. It would freak anyone out, I imagine. On another note, Marco is a tearful mess because of hormones, not because he's suddenly a pussy (lol pun). Also, stress does horrible things to birds, so cut him some slack for the lack of composure.

I know it's slow and choppy, but next chapter will have definite character development. I promise. Maybe.


	3. Chapter 3

X-X-X-X-X

Warning: This chapter contains mentions of torture/abuse, and will therefore carry an M rating.

X-X-X-X-X

The instant she set him down on dry land he whirled on her, glaring furiously, though it had little effect. Blue flames still flickered around her tense shoulders, and her head swung from side to side agitatedly as she growled something incoherent, before starting to pace. He realized, belatedly, how physically intimidating he was when he was angry.

Seeing as she didn't seem to want to do anything except pace and mutter under her breath, he huffed in frustration, before starting to tug at the heavy metal collar around his neck.

A large, warm hand clamped over his wrist, stilling his movements.

"Don't." She growled. He glared at her.

"Why not?"

She blinked, long and slow, before her frown deepened.

"You don't know what it does, do you?" she finally asked. He scoffed.

"I wouldn't be asking if I did, yoi." he snapped. He usually wasn't this agitated or short with people, but he'd just woken up from being body-swapped into some girl, then snatched off the Moby Dick and away from his family by that same girl, who'd, somehow, ended up in his body.

She was currently watching him with a troubled expression, brows drawn together. Slowly, carefully, she released his wrists.

"Let's say that Nobles have a twisted sense of humor. Just don't tug on it." She warned, voice much calmer. He only continued to glare.

"And what's it do that's so terrible?" he mocked. Truthfully, he'd seen enough similar collars in his day to hazard a guess at to what it was capable of, but it didn't resemble the exploding rings worn by slaves.

Her face hardened surprisingly fast, turning stormy in an instant. Stepping towards him, until she towered over his much smaller frame, she growled.

"It puts you through hell. If makes you feel things you never want to feel with someone you hate, and it's worse because your mind recognizes the sensations as foreign, but you can't do anything to stop it. And it just goes on and on and on and on until you go mad."

She drew back, face becoming troubled again, before she turned away. Still fueled by reckless adrenaline, he snapped.

"I don't believe you, yoi. Show me what it does, then. Prove it's so horrible." the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he found himself the object of an intense, piercing stare. Several long moments of silence followed, but he stubbornly continued to glare at her, not backing down.

Slowly, she pursed her lips, before whistling four distinct notes.

His knees buckled.

X-X-X

Pleasure coursed through him, crashing against him like a tsunami and making his skin feel like it was on fire. It made him writhe and moan and beg for filthy things he'd never even considered before, his face burning with shame as he gasped for air. His whole body throbbed, his limbs felt heavy, his very skin ached with the need to be touched, to feel relief from this. The sensations were so intense they were painful.

Not soon enough it stopped, and he found himself looking up at her through hazy eyes, panting desperately.

She was kneeling beside him, careful not to touch him. Which was a blessing, because even the tickle of the grass against his hyper sensitized skin made him shake. Hell, the breeze might just get him off.

"You okay?" her voice was much gentler, eyes sad, understanding.

It was a few moments before he could get his tongue to work again.

"I'll managed, yoi." he said.

A few more moments passed.

"How long?"

She stilled, watching him carefully.

"3 seconds." she finally said.

He stared at her in disbelief. 3 seconds of the collar being turned on and he'd felt ready to sell his soul just to make it stop.

"What about you, yoi?" he found himself asking, voice much quieter, and suddenly hating himself for being so short with her earlier. So callous.

Her expression was unreadable.

"It differed. A normal day would only see a few hours, just to entertain him. But if I displeased him, he'd leave me in the basement for days at a time. I think the longest was 5, before I was let out." she mused, eyes turning thoughtful.

He stared at her in complete, utter horror. He couldn't even imagine what that must have been like. To endure that and to come out relatively sane, she'd just proved she was much stronger than he'd first given her credit for.

She was watching him again, eyes sad.

"Even I think I went a little mad." she said, shrugging.

X-X-X

When he could move again and was sitting up, she scratched the back of her head.

"Sorry about just taking you like that. I had just woken up and was a little freaked out. Then I saw..." she gestured to him. "You, in my body, and I just sort of..." she shrugged.

He completely understood the sentiment.

"So, what's your name?" he asked. She looked down at him in surprise.

"Didn't think you'd be interested." she said. He shrugged.

"Indulge me, yoi."

She smiled, holding out a hand to shake his.

"Rose."

"Marco."

"God, that sounds weird coming from myself."

"You're telling me, yoi." He said, pushing himself to his feet.

"We have to get back to my crew, yoi." he said. "Pops can help us sort this out."

"And they won't skewer me for kidnapping you?" she asked doubtfully.

"You forget you're in my body, yoi." he pointed out. She scoffed.

"What about when we get switched back, yeah? What happens then? I have no desire to return to the life I was living, thanks so much."

He stared at her, then growled.

"I promise you, I'll make sure that doesn't happen." he promised. She blinked at him, then a soft smile spread across her face.

"I believe you." she said.

He tapped the collar.

"Any way to get this off me, yoi?" he asked, hopefully. She shook her head.

"For obvious reasons, I, you, can't. I'm not familiar enough with them to dare test whether I can get it off without hurting you." she said. He blinked, surprised she'd shown such worry for him, but then remembered that he was in her body. Any damage he took she'd eventually have to deal with.

"Another thing for Pops to fix, then." he said.

She nodded, before shoving herself to her feet.

"Alright then, let's get to it. Where will your crew have gone?"

X-X-X

As they flew, him clinging to her back while her blue-flame wings spread out on either side of them, he found himself wondering something.

"What was the purpose of this, yoi?" he asked, unwrapping one arm from around her neck to tap the collar with a fingernail. She glanced over her shoulder, then shrugged, swooping low to skim the waves and get out of the worst of the wind.

"He found it incredibly funny. It was one of the few ways I could entertain him." she said.

"So, he never..." he trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable. She actually laughed at that. It was a cold, empty sound, devoid of any real humor.

"And sully his esteemed self with my germs? No, no he never touched me, and he never let anyone else, for that matter. Nobles are weird like that." she said, before angling her wings to gain height again.

"How far ahead of us are they?" she finally asked.

"A few hours, they'll already be at the Archipelago, yoi."

She hummed, which he felt through his chest, pressed against her back, and he shivered.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

She beat her wings against the cloudless sky.

X-X-X-X-X

/AN/

I had written this chapter a long time ago for a fic with the same characters. That story was scrapped, however, and I just used the source material as the bones for this chapter.

Also, a note for future reference: I refer to the person as being the gender they were originally. So, even though Rose is in Marco's body I'll always refer to her as a her. Same goes for Marco (he'll always be a him). So if you read a sentence like "he didn't know what to think about accidently fondling his own breasts," then hopefully it will make a little more sense.

I hope this helps because that last part didn't even make sense to me. 8P


	4. Chapter 4

X-X-X-X-X

He could honestly say that he'd never been happier to see his surrogate family.

"Pops!" He yelled, running the last few yards to fling himself at Newgate. The sounds of blades being drawn made him tense and pull back, however. He turned to face his traveling companion, who'd hung back while he'd run to his father. She was eyeing the Commanders warily, shoulders tense and flames starting to lick around her hands.

"It's alright, Pops." He said, moving to stand in front of her, batting aside Vista's sword as he passed. "Just a misunderstanding. We were both pretty disorientated, yoi?"

Several tense moments passed, before Whitebeard nodded and the Commanders sheathed their weapons. Her eyes flicked amongst them, then looked down at him.

Her slow blink was an unvoiced thanks.

"How did this happen, Marco?" Asked Izou, glancing between them. He paused, thinking, before turning to Vista.

"Did you pick anything up when you found us? A rock, about yay big, shiny, colorful," he held his hand up to show size and Vista frowned in concentration, before digging into his pocket.

"I don't know if this is it, but it was in your hand when I found you." He said, producing the switching stone from his pocket.

Except it was no longer brightly colored. Instead, its surface shone a solid black, even when he held it up to the light. Marco tested it in his hands and felt Rose come to stand beside him, looking over his shoulder.

"You had that when I ran into you," she said. "What is it?"

"The guy who sold it to me said it was a switching stone," he said, passing it to her. She turned it over in her palm, studying it, brows furrowed.

"You said it was bright colors when you got it?" She asked carefully. He nodded. Her frown deepened. Carefully, she passed it back to him.

"You've seen it before?" He asked. She nodded slowly.

"Or, at least, something similar," she said.

"Where?"

She paused, the silence drawing out for a long breath before speaking.

"Dressrosa."

X-X-X

Marco couldn't sleep that night.

To keep up appearances Rose was staying in his cabin and he was bunking with Izou. But it wasn't the other man's light snores that were keeping him awake.

A million questions were running through his head at a thousand miles a second. How was Doflamingo involved? Why had Rose been on Dressrosa? What was the switching stone? How did it work? Why them? How would they change back?

Would they be stuck like this forever?

He shivered at that last thought, turning over and tugging the blankets tighter around his slim frame. He was ordinarily too warm, his core temperature running hotter than normal because of his Zoan, but Rose's body had no such adaptation. He was cold even with an extra blanket.

Finally, unable to stand the silence and his racing thoughts, he bundled himself into one of the blankets and slipped from the room, making his way above decks. At the top of the stairs he breathed deep, taking in salty, cool air with relief. However, as he walked towards the side of the ship he paused.

There was already someone at the railing.

Frowning, he drew closer, until the figure shifted and blonde hair flashed in a flicker of torchlight.

When he came to stand beside her at the railing Rose was staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused. They stood for a few minutes in silence before she spoke.

"Couldn't sleep?" He nodded, starting to shiver in the chilly night air that had so recently been a relief from the stuffiness of Izou's cabin. A sigh was his only warning before the blanket was tugged from his grip.

"Hey!" He tried to snatch it back but she was stronger and faster than him. Before he knew it an arm had looped around his waist, pulling his back to a hard chest, the blanket settling over them both. He stiffened, unsure of how to handle this situation, but she just settled against his back with a sigh.

"You were cold, right?" She mumbled into his hair. He just nodded. Slowly, however, he felt himself relax back into her warmth, until he was nearly half-asleep, snuggled into her arms and the blanket. He barely stirred when he felt himself being picked up and the sway of movement as she walked.

He didn't remember being tucked into bed.

X-X-X

He woke to find her seated in the chair beside his bed, reading. A pile of books on the little table beside her made him rub his eyes to do a double take.

"Have you been reading all night?" He asked groggily. She looked up at him, dark eyes unfathomable.

"I don't sleep, usually." She replaced her bookmark and closed the book, leveling a flat stare at him.

"I'm frankly surprised you were able to, but I suppose sleep is mainly up here." She tapped her temple for emphasis. He stared at her, suddenly tense.

"Why don't you sleep?" he asked cautiously. She smiled mysteriously and put her book aside, pushing herself to her feet and moving to open the door. She glanced over her shoulder at him.

"Nightmares." She said, before shutting the door behind her.

X-X-X-X-X

/AN/

And we have plot development.


	5. Chapter 5

X-X-X-X-X

Marco wondered, not for the first time, what he'd gotten himself into.

First, he'd walked out on deck that morning just in time to see Rose punch Ace square in the face. The other man had been standing proudly, hands on hips, a wide grin splitting his face, apparently unprepared for the extra oompha provided to the hit by the Phoenix's power. He'd quickly gone down, spouting a bloody nose and a choice string of expletives. Rose remained completely unfazed throughout the whole debacle. She'd apparently picked up his half-asleep look pretty easily.

When he'd struggled to his feet Ace had come at her swinging, but she'd easily sidestepped him, letting him run face-first into the wall. More spluttering and swearing had followed. Apparently the second division commander had been under the assumption that Rose couldn't use Marco's powers, and had therefore dared her into hitting him, thinking the ordinary punch would go right through him. He'd eventually slunk away with a mutinous pout on his face.

Second, Marco then had to explain to his father what had happened to them. This wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't included a description of the collar. And what it did. The fact that they had an audience made it somehow worse.

Rose's stone facade was oddly comforting, though. She didn't even blink when Whitebeard cast her a sympathetic look, but Marco did notice a loss of tension in her shoulders when his father removed the collar with a burst of haki. It was unceremoniously tossed overboard and he stretched in relief, scratching the back of his neck.

But his day was far from over.

He'd found Rose outside Izou's cabin after lunch, waiting for him. She grabbed his hand and dragged him back to his own room, despite his protests. Once inside with the door shut he rounded on her, furious, but was unprepared for her to lean in close to him.

She sniffed.

He stared at her like she'd gone insane.

"What are you doing?" He asked, carefully calm.

"You need to bathe." She replied, straightening up out of his personal space. He wrinkled his nose at her.

"Are you saying I stink?" He asked, annoyed.

"Yes." She said, deadpan. He frowned, starting to fidget under her scrutiny. Her eyes followed the movement before comprehension suddenly spread across her face.

"Don't tell me..." She began.

"Don't judge me, yoi!" He snapped.

"What's wrong with you?" She hissed at him.

"It's weird!" He said, trying to ignore the edge of a whine that had crept into his voice. She rolled her eyes.

"And you think _this_ isn't weird?" She asked incredulously, pointing down to her open shirt.

"It's not the same, yoi!"

"They're lady bits, surely you've seen some before." She said. He frowned at her.

"Of course I have, but they were never _my_ lady bits." He complained.

"At least yours do what you tell them to!" She snapped. He stared at her.

"What..."

"Never mind," she growled. They stared at each other for a moment before Rose let out a heavy sigh, raking her fingers through her hair. She extended a hand towards him, keeping her eyes averted.

"Come on, I'll show you the basics if you'll tell me how you work." Her voice was so quiet he barely caught it. He blinked, glancing between the faint tint of red coloring the tips of her ears to the extended hand and back again, before taking it tentatively.

"Alright." He agreed.

He wondered if he was just digging a deeper hole for himself.

X-X-X

He stared down at himself in mild disgust.

Seeing as Rose's clothes were little more than rags, he'd had to go to the only other person on the ship who might have suitable attire. Izou had nearly squealed in glee when he'd asked for something he could wear, and the resultant pile had been dragged to his private bathroom (thank the gods he was a commander). Next came the most awkward bath of his life, where he explained to a virgin why his bits didn't want to calm down.

He'd also gotten a crash course in female personal hygiene.

Now, however, he was standing in front of the mirror and debating whether to just wrap himself in a blanket and stay in bed for the rest of his life. The whole thing was uncomfortable, from the bra to the too tight pants. He heaved a sigh just as the door opened and Rose came in.

She took one look at him and immediately turned away, trying to smother her laughter in her hands.

"Shut up!" He yelled, turning red, but she just waved a hand at him, snickering quietly into her arm. When she'd composed herself she turned back to him, a smirk still on her face.

"Your choice in clothes is really atrocious," she said, before falling into another bout of giggles. He scowled at her.

"Everything's uncomfortable," he complained, tugging at the collar of the gaudy printed shirt.

Shaking her head with a lopsided grin she went to the pile and began to sift through it. She started tossing him clothes over her shoulder.

"These should fit a little better," she said. He struggle out of what he was wearing but she stopped him when he started trying to tug on the bra.

"No, the straps go like this. See, the hooks go here." She adjusted the infernal contraption and it settled around his chest. He blinked, suddenly able to move properly.

"Oh," he said. She nodded.

"They can get sore if you go too long with or without, so you don't have to sleep in them. Here." She helped him put on the long skirt and sleeveless shirt, over which went a cropped jacket. Last were a pair of flat sandals.

She stood back and nodded in approval. He turned to the mirror.

Dark red hair fell in gentle curls around his face, large green eyes alight in a still too pale face, but the clothes hid most of his skin and were surprisingly comfortable.

"Thanks." He said, casting her a smile through the mirror. She nodded, stuffing her hands in her pockets and leaning against the wall in a laid-back manner.

"No problem. Though, I have to ask, why did Izou give you _that_?" She pointed and his gaze followed her finger. He blanched.

Whatever it was it was leather and studded and he was going to kill Izou when he saw him next.

X-X-X-X-X

/AN/

Another short chapter.

I imagine that it's insanely embarrassing for the two of them. Not only do they have an audience, but it's Marco's family, which makes it even more awkward. And I made it easy for them to be naked together because I imagine that being in someone else's naked body is easier than being in your own. It's not yours so you really don't mind as much.

I knew this was going to be the heaviest story of the three, but I wanted to include some humor in there at some point. Afterall, Rose has to heal eventually and you can't avoid it with the Whitebeard pirates. More will definitely be forthcoming in the next few chapters because yes, Rose may be acting perfectly calm, but inside she's flailing around because Marco's man bits keep doing things she's not expecting them to.

To Rejar: Your review was very helpful, as usual. I agree that the first few chapters seem stiff, but I was having some problems getting them to flow properly. They still don't, but I have no idea when I'll be able to go back and revise them. Anyway, thanks for your feedback and I hope you have fun on your vacation!


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